


12 Days of Ficmas - 2018

by lumosinlove



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: 12 Days of Ficmas, Christmas, Fluff, Harry Potter - Freeform, M/M, wolfstar, wolfstar angst, wolfstar fic, wolfstar fluff, wolfstar headcanons
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-14
Updated: 2018-12-20
Packaged: 2019-09-18 09:28:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 8,949
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16992420
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lumosinlove/pseuds/lumosinlove





	1. First Day of Ficmas

On the first day of ficmas Hazel gave to you, a hockey player au….

 

Remus pushed Sirius’ hand away when it reached over his, trying to stop him from fiddling with the wrapping on their contribution to the team’s secret santa, “Stop it, stop, focus on the road.”

Sirius laughed, but obligingly placed his hand back on the wheel, “Stop fussing, Re, it looks fine.”

Remus stared pointedly ahead of him, eyebrows raised, “Best wrapped gets the fifty dollar Starbucks gift-card.” He leant his head back against the warmed leather seat of Sirius’ car—a splurge after the his first Cup, “Do you understand how long that can last me?”

Sirius glanced over at him, smile half raised, “You don’t need a gift-card.”

Remus looked back down to the neatly wrapped present on his lap. Inside, a set of shot glasses, one for each player, their nickname stenciled cleanly in varsity letters on the side, along with their number, “ _You_ don’t need a gift-card. Correction.”

Remus ignored Sirius’ familiar sigh, the one that always came when Remus blatantly refused to accept Sirius’ money—on any terms.

“Alright, alright.” Sirius reached again, palm hovering in the air for a moment, raised like surrender, showing that he meant no trouble, before pressing his fingers into the spaces between Remus’ and resting them on the center console between them. Remus squeezed lightly, just to show he wasn’t actually angry. He saw Sirius smile from the corner of his eye, and he squeezed back.

When they pulled up in the driveway of James’ house, Sirius let out a long whistle, Remus a loud laugh.

“Oh my god.” Remus pressed back into his seat, as if the small extra amount of distance would do anything to lessen the glare of what looked like thousands of blinking lights.

“Prongs getting overexcited.” Remus turned towards Sirius’ voice, and they grinned at each other, “As usual.”

Remus bumped his door closed with his hip, breath fogging in front of him. Sirius chirped the lock, and they squeezed out into the walkway from between the countless other cars of the rest of the team.

“I thought we weren’t late.” Remus frowned, staring at the cars that lined most of the rest of the street.

He looked up at Sirius when an answer didn’t come right away. He was looking straight ahead, mouth clearly fighting a smile and eyes practically glowing.

Remus stopped dead, “ _I thought_ —Sirius Black when did this party start?”

Sirius let out a soft laugh, nose scrunching and buried his mouth into the maroon and gold scarf tied around his neck, eyes blinking slowly with mocking innocence, “Seven thirty.”

“Pads!” Remus spluttered, “It’s fucking—“ He dug in his pocket for his phone, shifting the gift to the other hand, “Eight forty-five. It’s nearly nine. You said _nine_.”

Sirius tugged his scarf down before stepping into Remus’ space. The lights flashed across his skin, his hair curling across his temples form the damp snow falling. He leaned down, broad shoulders blocking them mostly from the view of the house, and caught Remus’ lips in a bruising kiss, head angling to lick into Remus’ mouth. Remus nearly dropped the present.

“Maybe you should have asked what time the party started before climbing on top of me then.”

Remus let out a breath, watching it fog like Sirius’ between them, “You’re a menace.”

“Hm.” Sirius grinned, teeth flashing brightly, and was just nudging their noses together—

“Merry fucking Christmas, lovebirds! Fuck!” There was a muffled sort of crash, and Sirius heard Lily’s voice trying to laugh and scold at the same time.

Sirius sighed, shaking his head lightly.

They turned, Sirius hooking his pinky around Remus’ before fully joining their hands as they picked their way up the snowy path, “Hi, Harz.” Sirius bumped their fists, “Looking a little flushed there, you okay?”

Finn lifted one shoulder, and Remus couldn’t tell if he was leaning against the doorframe in a cool way, or if it was for support, “There’s cider. There’s rum. It’s Christmas.”

“We’re playing Washington in just a few days, get it out of your system now.“

“ _Cap_.” Finn groaned, “C’mon.” Remus snorted at the pout he put on, dark red hair falling into his eyes, “It’s a party.”

“Hey, Cap’s here!”

There was a whoop, and then James’ face appeared in the small sliver of the warm living room that they could see from the door. He, too, looked a little unsteady on his feet.

“Took you long enough, Jesus.” He pulled Sirius into a tight hug, then flinched, “Take your coat off, that shit’s freezing. And your shoes too, Lils will like it that I said that. Re, was he holding you up?”

“They were tongue-fucking in the driveway.”

Remus grinned into James’ shoulder, before shoving the gift into James’ hands and glaring at Luke, “Just because you’re not getting any, Muzz, doesn’t mean I can’t.”

There were answering shouts of praise from all around, but all Remus really heard was Sirius’ chuckled, “I love you” into his ear.

The house was warm and lively, and Remus split his time between the wives and girlfriends, children, and the players as evenly as he could, although Harry Potter and Kara Loizeaux were hard to say no to. He was currently sat cross-legged in the middle of the living room, surrounded by what of the team hadn’t moved into the kitchen at the mention of a fresh batch of cider, and helping the two littlest of the children push a tiny hockey puck back and forth on a miniature rink. He sort of loved how most kids would be pushing a train around a track, while these two were happily pushing the puck around, just like their fathers.

“She’s a hard hitter, no?”

Remus looked up at Marc Loizeaux, grinning, “She’s got the Loizy pout down, that’s for sure.”

“Where ever could she have learned it from, I wonder?” Colette wrapped an arm around her husband’s waist, a glass of wine held lightly in her free hand.

“Yeah, you fucking _diver_.” Came from the kitchen in Logan’s light accent, made heavier with alcohol.

Marc rolled his eyes, “Tremblay, Surveille ton langage!”

“D’accord, _papa_ , d’accord.”

Remus looked towards the laughter filled room, then met Marc’s smiling eyes again, shaking his head, “I think you have more children than you think you do.”

Colette sighed, taking a sip of wine, “I think so too, Remus.”

The party got a little more wild after the kids were finally put to bed or taken home. They said goodnight to the players, pouting even after it had been made clear that, not only had they been allowed to stay up hours past their bedtime, but that they would be seeing santa in a few days time.

The team sat in a circle, Remus snuggling up close to Lily a little apart to watch them exchange gifts.

“Why is it,” Lily tilted some of his cider into her cup, careful not to spill on her particularly awful Christmas sweater, “that even if they all know they’re going to end up with something, they still get competitive.”

Remus hummed through a mouthful of the warm, spicy drink before swallowing, “Because they know who gives the best ones.”

“How do you know?”

“No!” Luke shouted, as if on cue, “No, no, I want that one, that is—“

Finn knocked his santa hat off with a bat to the side of his head, “You don’t get to choose Muzz, that’s not how this works.”

“But that’s obviously _Remus_ ’.”

Remus grinned at Lily, “Because I give the best ones.”

Sirius spluttered, throwing one of the seemingly thousand cookies occupying the table at Luke’s head, “And mine.”

Luke rolled his eyes, “Please.”

“What is it? I’m not remember the word.” Logan snaps his fingers, “Pants on fire?”

Sirius glared, gesturing between him and Remus, “Le cadeau vient de nous deux.”

Remus sat up a little straighter at the french from Sirius’ mouth. Lily snorted.

“Settle down, Black, settle down.” Logan laughed as he too received a cookie to the face.

“Can you shits get it together?” Ryan gestured to his own gift, “I want to see.”

Lily’s voice rose over the protests, “Three, two, one, _go_ , shitheads.”

There was a brief moment of silence while paper was torn off and gifts were identified.

“I have a _shot_ glass.” Finn said gleefully, “Fuck.” He looked up at Remus, grinning, “Thanks, Lupy.”

“And Sirius.” Sirius grumbled from within what looked like a hand knit team sweater, deep maroon, and with “Go Griffins” sprawled across the back and front.

“You’re welcome.” Remus said, mostly thinking about stealing that sweater.

Then Sirius gave him a look, pushing his hair back from his forehead where it had gotten mussed by the soft wool, like it was already his. Something warmed in Remus’ chest and he set his wine down to settle back against the cushions beneath that gaze.

They all trickled out slowly, mostly by the fault of Finn and Luke, who seemed content to sleep beneath James and Lily’s tree.

“Muzz, Harz.” James crouched down between them and grinned, “Get the fuck out of my house now.”

Remus was wrapping Sirius’ scarf around his neck by the door, holding onto the tails to tug him closer, “I can have that sweater, right?”

Sirius smiled down at him, thumb coming up to brush along Remus’ bottom lip, “You can have whatever you want.”

Logan whistled, “You bet he can.”

Sirius rolled his eyes, “Tremzy, I swear to fucking god—si tu n’arrete pas…”

Logan raised his eyebrows.

“Morning skate is not going to be fun for you.” Sirius ended, in english, decisively with a grin.

There were “oohs” from all around, and Logan’s face dropped, “ _Cap_.”

“Goodnight.” Sirius pulled James in for a hug, “Merry Christmas, Pots.”

~

The apartment felt quiet but warm and settling when they got back, Sirius dropping their keys onto the table just inside the drawer.

“Well,” He threw his scarf to the side with his coat and toed his shoes off, walking into the kitchen, the tiles cool against his socks, “That was wild, as usual. I don’t even want to know how you control Muzz and Harz in practice, I mean, I love them but do they ever stop talk—“

He cut off with a sharp intake of breath when there were suddenly hands on his hips and he was spun against the counter, the marble cool against his back in contrast to Sirius’ large, warm hands. He looked down at him quietly, eyes soft but intense, a clear grey.

Remus licked his lips, suddenly feeling like the heat had been turned up, “Yes?”

Sirius’ lips pressed together in a smile, head tilting, “Sais-tu que je t’adore?”

Remus recognized nothing but love, so he did nothing but lean up and press a lingering kiss to Sirius’ jaw, about as far as he could reach without Sirius leaning down, “What was that about love, Captain?”

Sirius made a low noise in his throat, “I was asking you the same thing.” He stooped a little, hand reaching up to thumb along Remus’ jaw, “Do you know that I love you?”

Remus hummed, “Well. I think so.” He smiled slowly when Sirius rolled his eyes, dropping his face into Remus’ neck. Remus pressed his palm to his warm nape, scratching his fingers lightly through the curls of dark hair there, “I’m pretty sure I know something like that.”

“I love you with them. With the guys. They love you, too.” Sirius pulled back, nudging their foreheads together, “I’m glad I get to be here this year.”

“Me too.” Remus said immediately. Last year had been hard, they’d played Arizona on the twenty third, and Remus had been at home with his parents. This year, Remus had other plans. Most of which included them eating and never leaving Sirius’ overly nice apartment. He tilted his chin forward expectantly, and Sirius complied, lips hot.

Sirius’ hands looped around his, and lead him slowly from the kitchen, kisses promising that the night was far from over.


	2. Second Day of Ficmas

On the second day of ficmas, Hazel gave to you, an angsty airport adieu…

 

Sirius is kind of falling apart. The airport has fake greens and bells that don’t ring hung up around the flight departures screen. Christmas music is playing over crummy, far away speakers. And Sirius is kind of falling apart.

Remus’ backpack sags on his shoulders no matter how many times he pushes it up. “Okay. It’s Wednesday, I’ll be back Saturday.” When Sirius just looks at him the corner of Remus’ mouth lifts a little sadly and he reaches out, pressing a warm palm to Sirius’ neck, “Saturday, love. It’s not that long. Besides, I have to go see my parents now if we want to be together on actual Christmas.”

“I know.” Sirius groans, leaning into Remus’ hand, “I know, I know.” He captures that same hand and presses it to his lips, “Feels like a lot, though.”

Remus made a small sound in the back of his throat, letting go of his suitcase and walking into Sirius’ arms, burying his face until the sounds of the airport muffled themselves. Sirius sighed, wrapping Remus fully against his chest, tucking him in like eventually maybe he could squeeze him into his coat pocket.

“Saturday night, ‘m gonna cook you dinner,” Sirius smiled at Remus’ approving sound, rubbing his back lightly, “whatever you want.” Remus mumbled something about steak and Sirius nodded into his hair, lips against his temple, “Steak, then. And we’ll decorate the tree, and build a fire. And after we’ve got all the lights on the tree, we’ll turn everything else off,” he pressed his lips to Remus’ cheek, murmuring the words against his skin, “and I’ll get that blanket from the end of the bed—the fleece one you like—and lay it right out in front of the fire…” Remus squirmed a little in his arms, pushing his cold nose against Sirius’ neck, and Sirius laughed, “Sound okay?”

“I want it _now._ ” Remus pressed his teeth gently against Sirius’ jaw.

And yeah, Sirius was definitely falling apart.

“Stop that, I’ll never let you leave.” He wound his fingers lightly through Remus’ hair, tugging on the short waves until he could pull their mouths together. He licked slowly into Remus’ mouth. “At this rate,” he mumbled, “a week really feels too much to ask.”

Remus just fisted his sweatshirt and pushed back into the kiss just as hard, “Five days. ’s not a week.”

_“Flight number 2479, please prepare for boarding, that is flight number 247—“_

“Fuck.”

Sirius hummed, cutting off Remus’ protests with one last, long kiss that left his heart out-beating his breath.

“Saturday. Steak. Sex.” Remus smiles a little at Sirius’ mournful look and he presses one more kiss to Sirius’ lips, “And me.”

_“Last call for—“_

Remus laughs when that spurs a fresh wave of kisses from Sirius, this time peppered all over his face, “I’m gonna miss my flight, I love you. I love you. See you—“

“Saturday.” Sirius nods, and keeps ahold of Remus’ hips, then his sweater, then his fingertips, until the last second, “Love you too.”


	3. Third Day of Ficmas

On the third day of ficmas, Hazel gave to you…a New Year’s Eve party meet cute.

 

Sirius felt rather tired of the party in swing around him all of a sudden—even though it is _his_ party. He straightened his button-down, the white collar falling open loosely at his collarbones, and took another sip of champagne. This one was made in Belgium. He’d given specific instructions to the waiting staff to bring out a different champagne per hour closer to midnight. He’d selected all of them himself, saving the best for last. It was ten forty-five now. He only had a few more moments with Belgium before it was off to Germany, and then, finally France. Because, of course. James and Lily made it a point to tell him at every one of his parties that he over did it, but what could he say? He’s on the list of twenty-five billionaires under twenty-five, and Sirius thought he’d earned a little extravagance. At least until he was thirty under thirty, and he had to—maybe—have a bit more poise.

_Besides, he was always telling them, what else am I going to do with it all?_

He looked briefly towards where they were laughing with Alice and Frank, then turned away towards the full-length window, watching fat flakes of snow fall down to coat the ground.

He gave to more charities than he could count, his brother would never have to work a day in his life if he didn’t want to. The rest was left to him. He’d spend it on his friends whether they liked it or not.

“Sirius! There you are!”

Sirius closed his eyes against the falling snow. Why had he let his assistant maneuver him into inviting any work relations at all? He pressed a smile onto his face and turned.

“Barty! So glad you could come.” He accepted the clammy handshake, “How are the kids?” _Please don’t show me pictures._

Barty was already reaching for his wallet, “Oh, marvelous, wonderful, look here—“

And so Sirius spent the next ten minutes looking at pictures that ranged from baby to early childhood to first day of school, and the next ten discussing the best possible way to rope the Chudley Cannons into accepting a deal with this sponsor rather than that one. It was not the place at all, but Sirius figured he’d rather do it now than have to see Barty again later in the week.

“Padfoot.”

Sirius stops from where he had been arguing for looking into the Godric Griffins instead, and blinks at a boy who he doesn’t—no, _almost_ doesn’t recognize. He certainly doesn’t recognize his nickname coming from his lips—no matter how full they may be.

“I—yes?”

The boy strides a few steps closer, turning to smile at Barty, “Hi, sorry mate, got to steal this one away. I’d also, though, go with the Griffins. They’re having a much better season.”

Barty opens and closes his mouth a few times, and then closes his wallet and accepts a glass of German champagne from a waiter walking by. He takes a sip, hums, and follows the tray for more.

Sirius places his own glass down, as it’s not Belgium’s hour anymore, and holds his handout with the same business-like smile, “Your Lily’s friend, aren’t you? So sorry, I think I’ve forgotten—“

“It’s alright, we haven’t actually met.” The boy grins and takes two Germany glasses from a passing tray, “You don’t have to pretend you know me, so put that smile away. I just thought you looked rather miserable.”

Sirius takes the glass slowly, watching the boy’s own easy grin, his soft but pilling sweater, “ _That smile_?”

“You didn’t have this party to talk business.”

Sirius raises an eyebrow as he takes a sip, “No.”

The boy motions towards the window with his own glass, “But here you are sulking by the window until that guy comes up to chat about something that can definitely wait until Monday.”

Sirius lets out a huffy laugh, checking to make sure Barty is well out of hearing distance before taking a slightly larger sip, “I don’t want to see him on Monday.”

The boy hums in understanding and faces the window. He really should be getting that sweater dry-cleaned. Sirius watches his lips and his profile and suddenly has a strong urge to buy him a nicer one.

Sirius leans his shoulder against glass, cold seeping through his thin shirt, “What’s your name again? You never—“

“Oh.” The boy shakes his head, “Shit, sorry, it’s Remus.” He offers a smile, shaking his head like forgetful things like this happen all the time, “Hi.”

The corner of Sirius’ mouth lifts and he needs a second before he remembers to say, “Hi.”

“Do you like the champagne?” He adds. _Could we go somewhere with a bottle of France to ourselves in a bit?_

Remus nods, “Sure. Sort of like the cheese platter more, though. Not to burst your bubble or anything.”

Sirius laughs, shaking his head, “No, that’s fine. Did you see—“ He sighs, “Well, I arranged them to pair with the drinks but I’m fairly sure no one is going in order.” He glances over where he can just see someone—Peter, maybe—still nibbling on nine o’clock’s brie.

“You’re insane if you thought anyone would follow that rule, but,” When Sirius looks back at Remus as he pauses, he feels his ears heat because Remus is already looking at him, head dipped and lips soft, “but cute try.”

Sirius lets his temple rest against the window, “Yeah?”

They stay there, talking by the window until Sirius takes Remus’ German glass from his hands and replaces it with France.

“You have to like this one.” When Remus looks up at him, Sirius realizes how close they’ve gotten, how he can’t feel the chill of the window anymore.

“Is it your favorite?” Remus asks.

Sirius shrugs one shoulder, “It’s the most expensive.”

“But is it your favorite?”

Sirius blinks, “Oh. Well,” he lets out a small huffy laugh, “to be honest I don’t quite love this stuff.”

Remus tilts his head, “You’ve been serving it all night.”

“It’s New Year’s Eve.”

Remus studies him for a moment, then presses his lips together and holds his untouched glass out with finality, “I want your favorite. Not money’s favorite, _your_ favorite.”

Sirius, to his credit, is not easily taken off his guard these days. He’d been ambushed too many times in stuffy meeting rooms with stale croissants on the table for that. He’s steady on his feet, trusts only himself, and is rather proud of the fact.

But here, he stutters. His heart feels warm in his chest. “I—mine?“

Remus holds his glass out more forcefully until Sirius takes it, “What do you like best?”

Sirius sets the glasses down on a side table behind him, “You really want to know?”

Remus nods, “Yeah.” Sirius might imagine it but he thinks that maybe Remus looked at his lips there for a moment, “I do.”

Sirius glances around the crowded apartment. Everyone is having a good time, paired off and merry. The televisions have been turned on. There’s a half an hour until midnight.

“Come on.”

Remus said nothing, just wove after Sirius through the apartment. Sirius nodded to James on his way by, shook hands and clapped a few shoulders, and checked a few times to make sure Remus hadn’t lost him.

He rounded the corner and stopped so suddenly that Remus bumped into his back, his nose knocking between his shoulder blades. Sirius suppressed a grin and pushed hard on one of the wooden panels of the wall. It clicked open and Remus sucked in a little breath.

“After you.”

Remus looked at him, “This is a secret door.”

Sirius nodded, “It is.”

“You have a secret door.”

“I have a lot of secret things.”

Remus let out a disbelieving laugh, looked once more over his shoulder, but allowed himself to be ushered through, Sirius following close behind.

“What the fu…” Sirius almost bumps into Remus this time, “Sirius, how big is this place?”

“A bit.” He lights up the small iPad on the wall and turns the lights on—still dim. He raises the shades too so they can just see the snow falling, “Well, no one really sees this part. I like…I like to have some of it to myself, you know? Somewhere that people can’t just…find during nights like this.” He offers Remus a small smile, “I host a lot of parties.”

“But I’m here.” Remus tilts his head again and Sirius clears his throat, making his way towards the small bar across the room that he keeps personally stocked. He lifts the counter gate up and slips behind it.

“Yeah. I don’t want to interrupt the kitchen right now, but you wanted a drink, so…” He places the three bottles he needs and a crystal mixer on the counter.

“I…Wait, Sirius, I don’t want you to feel like—I mean, I didn’t mean—“

“Remus. If I didn’t want you here, you wouldn’t be here.” He gives him a sure nod, “Really. Please, sit.”

Remus eyes the built-in leather bar stools for a moment before crossing to Sirius and sliding onto one. He fiddles with an ashtray, “Do you smoke?”

“No.” Sirius shrugs, “In case someone else does.”

Remus furrows his eyes at it for a minute, “But I thought…” His expression clears and he looks behind him, and the large bed set up by the window, the dark gray sheets and mountain of pillows. He quickly turns around, “Oh. Right, that’s…that’s thoughtful.”

Sirius really, really doesn’t want to talk about other people in his bed with this boy in front of him right now, “Don’t you want to know what you’re having?”

Remus looks up from where he’d still been looking at the ashtray and smiles, “Oh. Yeah.”

“Negroni.”

Remus scrunches his nose, “That sounds like a self defense move.”

Sirius lets out a loud laugh, “It’s not, but that’s funny. Do you want to grab me an orange from that bowl while I mix this?”

Remus follows his gaze to the fruit bowl behind the counter and nods. Instead of opening the gate he promptly ducks beneath it, “Here.”

Sirius has only just finished pouring when the sound of people counting down comes muffled from the other room. They both look towards the door.

“Huh.” Remus smiles softly and accepts the thin, wide-mouthed glass Sirius holds out to him, “Midnight already.”

“Yeah.” Sirius makes no move to pick up his own glass, and Remus just holds his.

The counters reach one and fireworks start almost immediately. The snow outside turns shades of red and green and purple, and it reflects off of Remus’ skin and hair, even from here.

Neither of them has said anything yet, but they’re looking at each other and listening to the celebration. Sirius suddenly really hopes Remus hasn’t seen this as some strange ploy to get him alone, especially with the talk about having people in here earlier, and his mind spins for a good ten seconds around how to ask for a kiss, or should he ask for a kiss, when Remus lets out a breath.

“I know we met two hours ago but—“ And Remus shakes his head for a moment, and his eyes definitely find Sirius’ mouth this time before his own lips do. His mouth is as hot as he makes Sirius’ chest feel and Sirius’ hand finds one side of Remus’ jaw. And then it’s over. Sirius’ fingers stay though.

“I—Happy, uh.”

“Yeah.” Sirius agrees.

“Yeah.” Remus doesn’t look quite focused. His cheek is sort of pressing into Sirius’ palm, and Sirius doesn’t really realize he’s leaned forward until Remus’ tongue is licking into his mouth, and somehow Remus is planted firmly on the counter, knocking their drinks askew.

“Fuck, I didn’t even try it.” Remus mumbles the words against Sirius’ mouth, fingers splayed and curling into his hair.

“Make you another.” Sirius just gasps out before they’re kissing again. It’s easier, now that Remus is Sirius’ height, but Sirius drags his mouth down to Remus’ neck anyhow, all the way to the worn collar of his sweater, “Later.”

Remus laughs, but it sort of comes out a moan, and Sirius looks up, “I don’t—I mean, is this okay? I honestly, I didn’t take you here for this, I don’t want you to think—”

Remus takes a breath—a few breaths—and smiles. Somehow that smile is Sirius’ favorite part of this entire scenario. His hands curl around Sirius’ ears, weaving the soft hair there through his fingers, and he leans down for a much softer kiss, “This is okay. But you do have…”

Sirius sighs, “A shit ton of guests.”

Remus nods solemnly, “A shit ton of guests.”

Sirius smiles against a sigh but nods, helping Remus down from the counter and around the spilled drinks on the floor.

Remus straightens Sirius’ collar for him before they sneak back into the party. It’s emptied out a little, maybe, but not much.

“Hey.” Sirius loops his fingers around Remus’ wrist to stop him from going too far into the main room, “Get brunch with me tomorrow. I know a place.”

Remus studies him for a moment before grinning, “No, _I_ know a place. But, yes. I’ll pick you up at Twelve. Yeah?”

Sirius blinks, “I—Yeah.” He smiles back, “Good.”

“Happy New Year’s, Sirius.”

Sirius watches him move over to James and Lily, both of whom are looking a little flushed, and says softly, “You too.”


	4. Fourth Day of Ficmas

The boy in his philosophy class had asked him out.

Remus stared at the words in his book, an anthology of short fiction, a good read really, but his mind replayed only one phrase.

The boy in his philosophy class had asked him out.

The cute boy. The boy with the leather jacket that looked like he belonged in the studio art building with the other leather jackets, or even more fittingly like he belonged racing down an open road somewhere, heading somewhere much more adventurous than Remus would ever dare to go.

They’d barely held more than five conversations.

One, mid-semester. Remus was a little late, as usual, and had slid in to one of the only available seats that wasn’t in the back row.

“Ah, late again, Mr. Lupin, so kind of you to join us.”

Remus had just pressed his lips together, raised his hand apologetically, and opened his notebook. Professor Firenze never really meant it. But he’d heard a sound to his left,

“Lupin…” Muttered softly, almost so softly Remus wasn’t sure that was what he’d actually heard. He turned his head anyway, and there was the boy.

He’d coughed a little when he realized Remus was looking at him, and tugged at one of the hems of his jacket, “Sorry. Nothing, sorry.”

He hadn’t looked up from his desk for the rest of class, but Remus still listened a little bit every time the professor called on him by name.

Second, at the coffee shop on campus. If you could call it a coffee shop, but coffee that wasn’t from the dining hall anyway. Remus had noticed him in line, a few spots ahead, almost instantly. He had his jacket again and no books with him, as usual. He was twirling a set of keys around his finger. When he reached the front of the line, he caught them.

“Dark roast, please.” The barista asked him what size and his name, “Oh,” He laughed, “S-

One of the workers started the blender for a girl ahead of them smoothy and Remus strained to hear over the noise, but got nothing.

Remus was confused by the harsh appearance and the soft laugh, by the soft hair curling around his hears and the steely eyes.

“Next.”

Remus almost stumbled forward, mumbling something about Earl Grey with room for milk.

He stood next to the boy, who had now seen him as well, to wait. The boy gave him a funny look, like he wanted to smile wider than he actually was, like he wanted to say something and wasn’t. Remus felt the same tug at his lips and looked at the pastries in the case instead, watching the boy from the corner of his eye.

“Sirius?”

Remus’ head whipped up as, in response to the name (a star, wasn’t it? Or something mythical?) the boy stepped forward, reaching for the warm cup.

“Tea for Remus.”

Remus started again, walking quickly beside the boy to take his tea. They jostled each other, and Remus stuttered out a quick ‘sorry,’ looking downward slightly to meet the boy’s eyes.

The boy smiled, “See you in class, Remus Lupin.”

The next class, Remus had no sooner sat down than Sirius had dragged his desk a bit closer to his.

“Hi. Remus?”

Remus looked at him, setting his bag down slowly, “I—yeah. Hello.”

Sirius smiled and held out a cup, “Earl Gray? Right?”

“Oh.” Remus let out a laugh, surprised and loud in the classroom, “Thanks, wow. You didn’t have to—“

“Maybe I could take out for tea instead sometime? Or—maybe more than tea? A drink. Or we could go to dinner.” Sirius seemed to be willing to suggest things until Remus replied, “Or a movie. Or we don’t even have to do anything. I mean obviously before break, before the holidays start. Obviously. I—yeah. Yes.” He offered a sheepish smile, “That’s my question, anyway. Also, I didn’t know if you took sugar or milk so I put both in, but not too much—“

“I’d love to.” Remus said, and when Sirius didn’t look like he believed him, he took a sip of tea and nodded, pretending his heart wasn’t beating in his ears, “Really. All of the above, whatever you want. Sounds good, Sirius.”

Sirius shrugged out of his jacket for class, “Yeah? Because there’s this—I don’t know if you heard about it, in town, the uh, what do you call it…”

Remus watched Sirius struggle to find a pen for a moment while talking before handing one over, “Holiday fair, I think.”

“Right.” Sirius nodded, grinning sheepishly, “Right.” Then he somewhat frantically holds up the pen, “Thanks.”

Remus pushed his hair off his forehead, taking another sip of tea, “Want to go at…eight? Maybe dinner before?”

Sirius grins, “P—“

“Alright guys,” Professor Firenze clapped his hands as he entered the room, “Yes, we’re all very chatty, come on. Settle.”

Remus glances one more time at Sirius, only to find Sirius is already smiling back at him.

“Perfect.” He mouths.


	5. Fifth Day of Ficmas

On the fifth day of ficmas, Hazel gave to you, drunk Remus being sleepy and cute...

 

Sirius watched silently, hand rubbing softly up and down Remus’ back, as Remus’ head lolled almost sleepily onto his shoulder. Sirius would have deemed that the cause had it not been for the fourth half empty glass held loosely in Remus’ hand and his bright eyes flitting from friend to friend that surrounded them at the three broomsticks table.

“You okay? Do you want some more more dragon nuts?” Sirius murmured softly, nose nudging the soft curls by Remus’ hair.

This did not get the soft nod or shake of head that it usually did, but instead Remus’ blinked at him, spine snapping straight, then burst out laughing. James jolted next to him, beer sloshing into his lap, but a smile was creeping on his face as he watched Remus laugh.

“What?” He asked, eyes flicking from Remus to Sirius, who Remus had down slumped against, nose in his neck, “What in Merlin’s name did you say to him?”

Sirius snorted, “I asked him if he wanted some more dragon nuts. Apparently his mind went to something else.”

Remus let out a final breathy laugh into Sirius’ neck before pulling back, face flushed with alcohol and laughter. He leaned forward until his lips were inches from Sirius’, “Yeah. Your nuts.”

James made a noise somewhere between a gasp and a delighted woop, “Moony! Moony, I—I’m speechless. Would you like another drink? It’s on me just for that.”

“No,” Sirius said before Remus could answer, “he’s barely keeping his head up, I think he’s alright.”

James grinned, “But we’re getting such an amazing running commentary, Pads. Live a little.”

Remus shrugged, “‘m okay.” He tapped his glass, “I’ve still got some.” He leaned into Sirius, “Besides, I don’t want to pass out tonight.” His eyes closed, “I’ve got plans.”

James laughed, “Do you now?”

“Yeah. Me and Pads. He won’t be wearing any clothing.” Then, partly to himself, “Nuts, nuts, nuts.”

“Re.” Sirius let out a laugh, feeling his neck warm a little.

“He’s a flirty drunk.” James announced triumphantly, “I mean, he’s flirting with his own boyfriend, but still. Now we know.” James grinned.

“And mistletoe.” Remus sighed, “Pads, you’d kiss me under the mistletoe, right?”

Sirius hid his smile in Remus’ hair. He was going to be rather embarrassed tomorrow, “I’ll kiss you wherever you like, love. Although I might be wearing clothes, depending on the location.”

Remus made a soft harrumphing sound, “Oh. Hm.”

~

They left when James and Lily decided they should really relieve Harry’s babysitter, splitting the bill. Remus was looking only slightly less bleary-eyed as they exited the pub. He still leaned heavily into Sirius’ shoulder, maybe more by choice than necessity now.

“Cold?” Sirius opened his jacket and Remus neatly tucked himself into it, “Gonna pop us home now, okay?”

“Yeah, warm.”

They appeared in the living room, and Sirius somehow managed to tuck Remus more firmly against him, shrug them out of their coats, and point his wand at the now crackling fireplace all in the span of a few seconds.

Remus sighs against his neck, “‘m so tired. Merlin.”

“What, too tired for mistletoe?” Sirius mouths jokingly at Remus’ jaw until Remus snorts, palming his mouth away.

“Stop,” he laughs.

“For nut plans?”

 _“Stop.”_ Remus groans, eyes closed, but his smile is still on his face.

Sirius looks down on him fondly for a moment before promptly scooping him up into a somewhat awkward hold. They both laugh as he stumbles a little before adjusting his grip beneath Remus’ thighs.

Remus lets his head loll back, deadpanning, “This is ridiculous, what the hell are you doing.” He raises his head and winces, “Fuck, I think that just jumpstarted my hangover.”

Sirius starts a slow, careful climb of the stairs, “That’s not how those work, but I love you.”

“I want waffles.” Remus mumbled, looping his arms tighter around Sirius’ neck and resting his cheek in the dip of his shoulder, “Is tomorrow Christmas?”

“Three days.”

“Oh.”

Sirius smiles to himself and nudges their bedroom door open with his hip, “Close though, baby.”

Remus splays on the bed when Sirius lets him down, stretching and arching his back in a way that, had Sirius not been so currently overcome with fondness, he would have deemed obscene.

“Come back. Hug me.” Remus’ eyes are still closed. Sirius toed his shoes off and Remus only finally cracks an eye open when Sirius already has his knees on the bed, “Take your shirt off.”

Sirius snorts, “So demanding,” but obliges, tugging his thick long sleeve over his head, “I’m gonna be cold, can we at least pull the blankets—“

But Remus somehow has managed to rid himself of his own shirt while still lying down and pulls Sirius to him, sighing as Sirius’ broader weight anchors him to the bed.

“This is fine.” The soft sound Remus makes as Sirius settles in, hooking their feet and nosing at Remus’ still alcohol flushed cheek makes Sirius’ heart beat.

“Yeah?” He shifts to the side, just a little, and pushes the hair off of Remus’ forehead, lips soft against his jaw, “Go to sleep, baby. Two days till Christmas, then.”

“Hm. Morning nuts?”

Sirius nods, planting another kiss, “Only if you stop calling it that.”

“I’ll regret that when I’m sober, won’t I.”

“Oh, James will make sure of it.”


	6. Sixth Day of Ficmas

On the sixth day of ficmas, Hazel gave to you, Russian!Sirius and Callboy!Remus au…

 

“What is this?” Remus was lounging back against the bed, enjoying the mountains of kingsized pillows while he could, before he had to go back to his threadbare apartment. He picks up the small, neatly labeled envelop up off his chest from where Sirius had lightly thrown it. He could see the green tint through the thin, expensive paper.

“It’s Christmas bonus.” Sirius said the words carelessly as he buttoned up his shirt once more. He looks at Remus in the mirror, smile playful.

Remus chokes a bit at what’s inside, “Sirius. This is not a—a _bonus_ , this is—“

“It what you deserve.”

Remus sat up pulling the sheets to pool around his hips. He wasn’t having this conversation completely naked, even if that was how it made him feel, “Sirius…Look, I’ve had a good time too these last few months.“ That was an understatement, okay, fine, but, “But this is…This is the equivalent of,” He flipped through the hundreds quickly, “of five more nights. If you’re asking for those, that’s fine, I’m more than happy—“

Remus looks up at the sudden weight of hands on his hips, Sirius’ large hands smoothing soft circles, “Not asking for anything but you take money. Why so hard?” He presses a warm kiss to the corner of Remus’ mouth and blinks lazily at him, “I’m want you to take.”

The words are out of Remus’ mouth before he can really think, “What do you even do?”

Sirius’ expression shadows over a bit. His entire body stills.

“I’m sorry, I know I’m not suppose to ask.” Remus sets the envelope aside, smooths his palms over Sirius’ neck. His hair is still damp from his shower, “Forget I said anything.” He strokes Sirius’ skin and tries to calm his nerves from the look on Sirius’ face. He doesn’t want Sirius to leave. He hates himself for it, but he needs Sirius to come back in a way that isn’t how he should think about a client. Ever. But he wasn’t kidding when he said he loved these last few months. Sirius was kind. Sirius liked to talk late into the night, and when they did, Remus could almost pretend he wasn’t going to give him money in the morning. Sirius kissed him goodbye like he meant it, like he never wanted to stop, “Thank…Thank you for the…bonus.”

Sirius’ expression clears a little, a small hopeful smile coming back, “You like? I have another? It’s, ah, present?”

Remus smiles a little, “Present.” He puts the accent in the right place. He’ll never admit the soft spot he has for Sirius’ broken english aloud, “Gift. Sirius—”

Sirius is already moving towards the bag he brought, holding his hands up in mock surrender, “I’m know, “not have to,” yeah, yeah,” He mumbles in Russian for a moment while he rummages, “Da, zdes’, here.” Sirius collapses back on the bed, his broad shoulders stretching the thin material of his shirt, eyes bright and warm, “But I’m want to.” He holds out the small package a little more when Remus hesitates, “Please, Remus.”

When Remus does take the gift, Sirius’ large palm strokes over his hair and he mumbles, “Moi Horoshiy.” Remus still doesn’t know what that means, but he’s heard it often enough right before Sirius’ comes that it warms his face, even in this calmer setting. And then Sirius adds something, softly, “Solntse…”

“Sirius…” Remus doesn’t have much more to say as he stares down at the golden pendent in the box. Actually golden. It’s heavy, and the kind of metal that warms against the skin, and it’s shaped in a small oval, imprinted with a small crisscross of lines. A star.

“It’s, ah…” Sirius flushes a little, “I’m not know how to say. It’s like my name, it’s—zvezda, I don’t know in english, should have looked up—“

“Star?” Remus points upward, through the window where a few are sort of visible through the clouds. It’s still early.

Sirius’ eyes light up, “Yes! Yes, I’m name after, so I…I get you.”

Remus swallows and looks back down at the necklace. Sirius is basically asking him to wear his name around his neck, and he shouldn’t be happy about that with a client but the idea is more than appealing.

“I’m also think, Remus…” he lets out another nervous laugh and sits up, kneeling in front of Remus and sets the necklace aside before taking his hands, thumbs rubbing over Remus’ wrists. His eyelashes look long and thick in the warm hotel room light, “I’m know you might not want. Might not say yes. Maybe…Maybe should not ask while you naked, but…I go anyway, okay?”

Remus lets out a little laugh, “Okay.” His heart is beating in his throat. He hopes he knows what this is, and that hope is painful. Fuck, he wants. He wants to hear certain words in Sirius’ thick, breathy accent, wants to know how he’ll say that, he hopes he’ll say them.

“I’m think…I’m think about a lot that, maybe we not see each other?”

Remus nearly sinks backwards into the pillows. The air stops in his lungs for a second, “I…Oh. Oh.”

Sirius’ brows furrow, “Oh? You not like?”

Remus slowly withdraws his hands because they’re shaking and Remus doesn’t want Sirius to feel, “I…Well, Sirius, it’s up to you. You don’t have to see me anymore if that’s not what you want. You don’t have to give me money to let me down gently, this is part of the job.” Remus looks at the necklace and frowns. The money he can handle, the necklace is just cruel.

“I—No, I, I’m know part of job. I don’t want you have job. I mean—I don’t want—I—“ He huffs, eyes falling shut briefly the way they do when he’s got something to say but can’t translate, “I’m not want—give you job. Anymore. I want—us end. Different. Different beginning.” He groans, “I’m nervous, all english goes out the wall.”

Remus blinks at him, “Window. I…I don’t think I follow.”

Sirius makes a pained noise in his throat and snatches up the necklace again, pulling it free from the box and looping the chain around Remus’ neck. He kisses it before letting it fall to Remus’ throat, and then he kisses the corner of Remus’ mouth, “Remus.” His thumbs stroke softly down Remus’ temples, his eyes pleading, “Reshunya.”

Again, Remus has heard the nickname before. It had started maybe in month two. It made Remus’ cheeks flush usually but it had an entirely different effect with Sirius saying it now, like this.

“I…You…Are you asking me…”

“Yes!” Sirius nods, “I want you to be with me. Most. And I want—“ he shrugs with shoulder, “only if you want but, I want take care.”

Remus’ throat feels tight, “Me? I…me?”

Sirius nods, “Yes. Don’t have to answer everything now. Just…I’m in town next week, Tuesday. Maybe we get dinner. Or…”

Remus covered Sirius hand with his own, “Or?”

Sirius offers a small smile, “Or maybe you come with me. I’m have conference in Australia. It be nice, I have to work a little, know it warm for Christmas, but then…we walk around, we…” he snaps his fingers then says, “water?”

Remus smiles slowly, “Swim?”

“Swim. We swim, and eat good food, drink. Be together. Good first date, da?”

Remus nods, “Da. Yeah.” He lets Sirius pull him closer, hooks his ankles around his back, more aware of Sirius grin than the fact that there’s just a sheet between them.

He doesn’t want to say he feels saved, but…he feels safe. As Sirius strokes his hands down his cheeks, pressing small series of kisses to his lips and bringing a blanket around Remus’ shoulders, he feels a knot of tension leave his chest that he wasn’t aware was there. Or maybe he’d gotten so used to it.

“I’m show you.” Sirius mumbles against his skin, “I’m—anything you want, baby.”

“I want you.” Remus says softly, returning the kiss, basking in the warmth of Sirius, “You don’t have to do any…” He laughs, shaking his head, “Big, extravagant…” He sighs, pressing another kiss to Sirius’ parted lips, “Of course I’ll come with you. Of course I’ll be with you. Sirius, you didn’t have to give me anything for that. I don’t want your gifts, I want you, okay? Okay?”

“No one ever…” Sirius clears his throat, but his voice still sounds rough, “No one ever say before.”

“Well, get used to it.”

Sirius grins, eyes a little shiny and hands spanning Remus’ back, “Can I?”

Remus nods, letting Sirius nose against his cheek, “Yeah.” He feels the heat of the necklace warm against his skin, “You can.”


	7. Seventh Day of Ficmas

On the seventh day of ficmas, Hazel gave to you, a continuation of rich!sirius au…

 

~ two days later ~

Sirius felt out of place and overdressed in the cramped breakfast cafe that smelled more of grease than actual eggs, and he knew he defiantly looked it, but he was smiling and the food tasted amazing. And Remus was sitting across from him cupping his mug of tea close to his face while he talked. Their knees knocked under the table. There wasn’t really much he could complain about at all, honestly.

“Just out of curiosity,” Remus began as he stole a piece of Sirius’ bacon, “Where did you have in mind?”

Sirius swirled his coffee, “Oh. Well, there’s this great place in Italy. It’s known for its cappuccinos, and they make these egg—“

“Italy?”

Sirius nodded, “Yeah.”

Remus tilted his head, speaking slowly, “Little Italy?”

Sirius blinked, “Rome, Italy.”

“Like…the country. The city.”

“Well. Yeah, it’s beautiful there.”

They were quite for a moment before Remus let out a small laugh, then another, until he had his face in his hands and his shoulders were shaking.

“I…” Sirius couldn’t help the smile forming on his face, “You like Italy, or no?”

Remus gasped, leaning back in his chair, cheeks pink, “What? No, Italy’s great. I just—you were going to fly me to Italy for brunch? That’s ridiculous. That’s absolutely—What if it had gone horribly?”

Sirius shrugs his shoulders, “I think this is great.”

Remus looked at him for a moment, then he dropped his chin to his palm, “Right, no, it is…” He blinked a sort of funny, disbelieving soft look out of his eyes and stole another bacon, “Do you fly first dates to European countries often?”

“I don’t really, ah,” Sirius stole a piece of toast in return, “the opportunity doesn’t come up.”

Remus raised an eyebrow, “No?”

“Well, they usually start a conversation with the expectation—or purpose, really—of being flown to a European country for the first date. So,” Sirius grinned a little, “I figure they’re sleeping with me but dating my private jet. My private jet is a very private person, she doesn’t like it.”

Remus’ expression had turned a bit sad and Sirius waved the look away, “Don’t look at me like that. I’m here now, yeah? You took me out. That doesn’t happen often, so, I’d expect you want to sleep with me and date me.”

Remus coughs on his tea, cheeks pinking. His nose scrunches up when he laughs but he nods, “Yeah, well, you’ve got me there.” He looked up at Sirius through his lashes, eyebrow cocked, “Maybe even at the same time.”

Sirius bit on the inside of his cheek, trying to reign in his smile at least a little, “Is that so?”

~ one year later ~

Remus watches from the bed as Sirius paces back and forth in the hotel room. He’s on the phone. He’s absolutely bare except for the red, vivid marks on his neck. Remus smirks and twists onto his stomach, feet on the pillows and head now near the end of the bed, enough to reach out and grab around one of Sirius’ thighs, pulling him closer.

Sirius covers the speaker with his hand, “Hey,” Remus looks up innocently, and Sirius mouths behave. Remus grins and arches his back up, pressing a wet kiss to the crease of Sirius’ thigh and hip. He gets a total of three more kisses in, each getting more and more centered, before Sirius’ phone is being hung up, tossed onto the desk, and Remus finds himself on his back again.

“You’re a wild one, you know?” His tone is scolding but he’s kissing Remus’ neck, “I told you it would be only a few minutes, you couldn’t wait? Didn’t wear you out enough?”

Remus laughs and closes his eyes, sinking into Sirius’ skin against his and the ocean breeze coming in through the open balcony doors of their suite, “I was doing you a favor, you deserve a break.” He combs his hands through Sirius’ thick hair, “Not to mention the ability to sleep in on vacation—which is what we’re on, by the way—instead of waking up for a nine am phone call because it’s more convenient for some other guy’s timezone, I mean, honestly Pads, you’re too nice.”

“Am I?”

Remus yelps, and it turns into a laugh as Sirius’ kisses turn into a soft nip. He won’t deny that it makes his neck heat a bit.

Sirius sighs, “You’re right, you’re right.” he props himself up on his elbows, fingertips playing with Remus’ slightly sweaty hair, “But we’ve got to save at least some energy…” his mouth ghosts over Remus’ jawline, “For tonight. I have plans. Dinner and then…some more.”

Remus fake gasps, “What, you’re saying you planned something? You?”

Sirius splutters, “It’s not a lot, I promise.”

Remus sighs dramatically, “Oh. I was hoping for a helicopter.”

Sirius flushes, “Well.”

“Sirius. No.”

Sirius tries to kiss him, maybe a distraction, but Remus presses a finger to his mouth, laughing, “You’re fucking crazy.”

“It’s our anniversary.” Sirius has the nerve to actually pout.

“I—“ Remus sighs, pushing his fingers through his hair again, “Okay. I love you. Ridiculous, but I love you.”


End file.
